Northfall had changed... so much. Except, not really? The pack itself remained the same, if trying to regain the strength of numbers, but it felt so strange here. It was more than the cold -- she disliked the north mostly out of spite, for though she belonged in lands of summery green forests and pastures of flora and fauna, the tundra was only filled with longing. Arvid had never really escaped her thoughts, but she'd shoved jealous thoughts of him and her adopted sister far to the back of her mind. To hear how far he spiraled, the decisions he had made... what sort of viking pack disowned their gods?
How hurt must he have been?

A few days past, she'd run into a dark man, lanky and golden-eyed. She'd dared to ask how he'd found himself at Northfall, not recognizing him.
He'd known Persephone. He had loved her, in another life. He loved her still, she could see the pain echoing in his eyes.
He'd found her dead body, buried her in the north. She didn't belong in the snow, she'd sobbed, and the man had shed a few stoic tears of his own. They'd agreed she'd belonged in a field of flowers.

And still, Harper was nowhere to be found. Fiora's last soft, quiet hope had been to find her Mama here, well, hunkering out the worst of this plague somewhere safe. Apparently, she hadn't been seen for some time before the plague.
Fiora, the gentle Petal, the inheritor of all Harper's mischief and skills, assumed the worst. What could possibly keep her Mother from coming home other than death itself?

She'd told Sreda she needed a few days.
Her cousin had her own drama to attend to Fiora tried not to pry into, and she was waiting to welcome a litter into the world by the same tree that'd blessed Elysium with the triplets. It was such happy news, and the Bacchus hoped to be there to share in her witch-sisters best days, to help where she was needed. With Elysium scattered to their allies awaiting the time to go home, it only seemed right to lend her own skills and strength to the woman who'd pulled her out of such darkness, not to mention the longest and closest allied pack her family had.

She was surprised when Sreda said they could walk the tundra together, that there were plans she could attend. It was nice, striking out to do good again, enjoying the company of someone familiar. There were few faces she knew from her summer here, and even then, she'd spent so much time learning the land more than it's people. What she knew of their ways came from things Harper had taught her, things she'd picked up just by watching and listening and being a part of things, hints Sreda dropped perhaps by accident just in letting her know what had happened.
At least, she told herself, things were looking up for the chilly northern wolves.
Could the same be said for Elysium?
As they ranged further north, the cold became nearly unbearable. Fiora got creative in forging their path, choosing to stay out of the snowbanks she would normally love to throw herself into, trying to stay dry. Part of her wished she'd brought some pelt along with them, chilly as it was, but it was too late for that by the time the nighttime bit into their skin.
The air hurt her lungs, and as she moved, she prayed to The Five to keep them safe.

A faint purple glow illuminated the cliff some ways ahead, through the forest, and Fiora's ears cupped; slow, careful strides pausing.

Sreda, she said in a hush, Look. I know what that is!

She picked up into a canter across the last stretch of open field, the setting sun hidden behind the thick layer of constant cloud cover.

She didn't see the frozen pond, already covered in snow, lurking ahead through the sheet of white. It crackled beneath her paws as she ran onto its surface and gave way almost immediately beneath her, dunking her into shoulder-high water and stealing away her breath. Fiora gasped a shrill WAIT! in hopes to still her cousins steps, stunned still for several seconds before jutting her head higher from the water. She could feel a slope beneath her paws where the water grew deeper, and cursed it for not being anymore frozen as she tried to back up. Wasn't it cold enough by now for fucks sake?
Chunks of ice floated back into place, threatening to push her further in. Fiora dug in her nails, trying to move, slipping in place every time she lifted a paw. It was so cold, her chattering jaws parted only to gasp short, painful bursts of icy air.

Fuck.

S-sr-sreda? Y-You d-d-dry?

She couldn't see her dark companion.